A Point of Awkwardness
by Mrs. Pepperwood
Summary: There was a spot on the floor just outside of Derek's bedroom that made a creaking noise throughout the whole house when anyone stepped on it, and it almost made her turn back. Set after Truman's Last Chance.


Ok- so...I wrote this really fast, and I've reread it a bazillion times so that it doesn't even make sense to me anymore. And I can't tell if it's boring or not. I think it is... I feel like nothing really happens. Lol- maybe you'll like it. I don't know.

Anyhow, It's set right after Truman's Last Chance- after Casey talks to her mom about Truman- I thought that if Nora was sleeping on the couch waiting for her and Derek to get home- that Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti would all actually be in bed... and not answering phone calls.. So I pretended it didn't happen.

Oh also (I know this is getting long) I think I was having problems with past/pre tense. Sorry I'll work on that.

It's a one shot- 'cos you know I'm that jerk who wont finish anything that's not.

Disclaimer- I obviously own nothing. Not Life with Derek... Not Lulu Lemon. Way to make a girl feel good about herself.

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Casey trudged up to her room after saying goodnight to her mother. Her whole body felt exhausted and heavy. She was tired of crying and could barely keep her eyes open; they felt puffy and the skin under them felt tight and dry from the salty tears.

She tossed her purse onto the back of her desk chair and pulled out the clip in her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror as the hair floated over her shoulders. She looked like she could be pretty- like she had been pretty at one time. Her face was held in an invariable frown, and Casey was sure she couldn't move it if she tried. She closed her eyes very lightly, took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror. Maybe she was totally undesirable.

She got undressed and pulled a cream coloured t-shirt over her head. She looked down at it and saw two care bears holding hands and giving each other an Eskimo kiss. Her frown increased- if that was even possible. She stripped the shirt off of her body and flung it into the corner of her room, then grabbed a plain purple t-shirt to replaced the all to cheery care bear one. She pulled on her black, capri-length, lulu lemon yoga pants and sent a silent prayer to the west coast and to the man who invented lulu lemon; yoga attire that anyone, with any body type could wear and still look hot.

She needed to feel comfortable and cute, because she felt disgusting and used.

She walked down the now dark hallway to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and went to the sink. She looked in the mirror again, her expression hadn't changed since she'd seen herself in her bedroom. The bags under her eyes may have gotten bigger though. She grabbed her toothbrush and turned on the faucet. The noise seemed deafening; the whole house was silent and Casey hadn't made a sound since saying goodnight to her mother. She brushed her teeth and washed her face then took another deep breath. Everything she did made a noise that seemed amplified in her ears; the clink of her toothbrush and its holder, the opening and closing of the cabinet that held her face wash, even her own breathing. The florescent bathroom light seemed to be brighter and pulse faster than usual too. She felt like all of her senses were heightened, and like she shouldn't make noise- like she needed to sneak around her own house. She turned off the light in the bathroom as she left, walked down the hall back to her room, and crawled into bed. She pulled her pillow down and squeezed it close to her body. She wanted to continue crying but her tear ducts felt as though they were throughly deplete of any moisture.

Truman and Vicki had turned Casey's completely confidant, self-assured, self-reliant, poised self... into an uncertain, self-guessing, apprehensive, doubting little girl hugging her pillow wondering if she will ever receive the same kind of love she extends.

And if the kiss between her boyfriend and her cousin was her fault.

She laid in that exact position for what seemed like a life time, staring at the clock letting the light of the numbers burn her eyes, feeling sorry for herself and wishing someone was there to hold her.

After hours of mindless thoughts rotating in the same order in her head, Casey was frustrated with everything: Truman, for being the asshole that he was, her family for being right about Truman being an asshole, and Derek for the stupid, confusing way that he acts.

At 3:17 in the morning, Casey flipped back her covers and tip toed out of her room. There was a spot on the floor just outside of Derek's bedroom that made a creaking noise throughout the whole house when anyone stepped on it, and it almost made her turn back. When the house groaned she stopped where she was, looked around like a paranoid criminal, took a deep breath and slipped into his room.

She could see Derek in the middle of his bed sleeping on his side, faced towards her. Silently she crawled into his bed and scooted closer to him. She nudged his arms gently to wake him up. He stirred and cracked an eye open.

"Casey?" He asked her in a deep, groggy, 3-in-the-morning voice. He propped himself up on his elbow.

"What are you..." He wasn't really sure what he should be asking in this scenario.

She didn't say anything, just turned away from him, facing the door. She reached around her back, took his left hand in hers and brought it around her. She took his right hand and pulled it forward to put under her neck, then readjusted herself so she was even closer than before. Her back right up against his chest, and her left arm over his squeezing herself. She kept her right hand holding his, and took a deep breath and relaxed into him.

Derek was tense. He didn't know what to do, or how to react.

He glanced around his dark room- what was...what is... why... He was panicking. Casey was clearly upset... He should kick her out, that was the obvious solution...yeah that's definitely what should happen...right now... although, the silent, desperate way she was clinging to him... Somehow made him feel like kicking her out would be the more awkward... embarrassing option right now, rather than to just let her stay. He felt her relax into him and that made him feel a little less stressed out about the situation. He reluctantly lay his head back down onto his pillow, but wouldn't go back to sleep for sometime.

He lay awake, stiffly pressed against... soft... comfortable... warm Casey, with thoughts streaming through his mind until he came to: as weird as this was, it was alright. This actually made sense to him. They were allowed to be this way with each other. A silent agreement that said as long as they never talked about it... they could be vulnerable around one another... occasionally. And this is what Casey needed, someone to hold her. So... yeah it made sense to Derek.. and it was fine... it was maybe even kind of... nice... er maybe.

"I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was sorry for- for the way Truman had treated her, for the way _he'd_ treated her, for world hunger? He didn't know, he just felt like he needed to put it out there. To say it into the same room that Casey was in-

"...Thanks." She said softly.

Ahh- his eyes bulged- He didn't know she was still awake.

God help him. He figured the situation had hit a point of awkwardness that nothing he did now could surpass. He sighed, tightened his grip around her and burrowed his head into the back of her neck. He curled around her and accepting that she wasn't going any where.

"Go to sleep." He whispered onto her skin and eventually he drifted off to sleep himself.


End file.
